Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 109096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
I lunge at him, clutching the chloroform-soaked rag I pulled from my waistband. His eyes widen, but I'm too fast, and he can't fucking stop me. I press the rag against his mouth, holding my breath while he struggles. The fumes are making me dizzy too, and my rapidly beating heart isn't helping. But I can't stop now. I have to go through with this. I have to get rid of Robin.
Dove's brother's body goes limp in my arms. The fucker's heavy, and I lay him down gently on the ground, mouthing curse word after curse word as I contemplate what to do next.
But either way I turn it, there's no happy ending for Robin. Not if I want to keep Dove in my life. He'd never let us be together. No, he'd keep an even closer eye on me. I have to dispose of him.
I kick at the laundry basket, cursing out loud this time. I pray Dove won't wake up as I drag Robin through the living room. His unconscious body is heavy and I'm thanking my lucky stars when I realize there's nobody on the street outside. I'm risking a lot for Dove. I have to, because we belong together.
I bring my bike closer and position Robin in front of me. I ride out carefully. The last thing I need is to get stopped by cops, even though a twisted part of me is almost hoping it will happen. I don't want to kill Robin. I want him to disappear. Let me have my own happy ending. But that's not going to happen, is it?
I drive close-by to the motel where there's a trash site. Robin's starting to stir by the time I get there and my own guilty conscience weighs heavily on me as I leave his unmoving body on the ground. Fuck. I can't do this. I can't kill him. I don't want to hurt Dove. I want to make her happy, not miserable with worry. But I have no choice.
I pull out the gun I bought from a guy a couple alleys down from Sam, just in case. I guess that just in case moment is happening right now. Pointing the barrel at Robin, I groan out loud, running my hand through my hair. Just then, Dove's brother stirs awake, and I'm momentarily stunned, watching him pick himself up, disoriented and scared. Then, he stares down the barrel of my gun.
"No," he mutters. "You're not going to kill me. I'm not letting you get away with this. You can never have her."
"I have to," I mutter.
"You don't." The hint of desperation in Robin's voice makes me sad. "We can talk about this. You don't have to do this. I won't tell anyone."
He's lying, and we both know it. If I let him go now, he'll go running straight to the cops, and I can't let that happen. I can't lose Dove, not now, not ever.
"I'm a human being," Robin rasps. "Don't kill me... I deserve to live... I deserve to –"
The shot rings out into the dark. The gun falls from my hands. For the first time in decades, I feel tears stinging my eyes. He didn't give me a choice.
***
Hours later, it's closer to morning than night. I've downed half a bottle of whiskey and I'm a goddamn mess as I show up on Sam's street. The old man's curled up on his makeshift bed. There's a spoon nearby, and a needle sticking out of his arm. This time I don't mention it. I can't, my mind too preoccupied with what I've just done.
"Up early?" Sam asks me, taking the needle out. His pupils are insanely dilated, but he seems mostly out of his daze. He disposes of the evidence of his night. Just like I did with mine.
"Couldn't sleep," I mutter, half-collapsing on the ground next to him.
"Jesus, kid, you fucking reek," Sam mutters. "Did you visit a distillery?"
"Something like that," I mutter. I don't elaborate, and Sam doesn't ask me to. I feel sick to my stomach, like I'm going to throw up any second. I want to die. For the first time in my life, I feel disgusted enough with myself to take my own life. How could I do this to her? How could I ruin Dove's life like this?
She can never find out what I did. It'll be my best kept secret. Because the moment Dove finds out I killed her brother, it's officially fucking over for us.
"You sure you're okay, kid?" Sam asks next, and I look up into his kind eyes. The closest relationship in my life right now is this – my friend is a homeless man who cares more about me than my own family. And yet I can't tell him the truth. Can't risk Sam hating me, too.